


A Priest and his Wife

by WigglyTeeth



Category: Bloodborne, from software
Genre: F/M, Transformation, Woops, hurt comfort, so how is everyone today, uhm i forgot how tags here work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6102835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WigglyTeeth/pseuds/WigglyTeeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't trust mystery meat</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Priest and his Wife

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there everyone, this is just a quick one off idea that I felt like writing. I've been really enjoying Bloodborne lately and a certain AU.   
> That being where Father Gascoigne and his family and friends all live through the game's plot. Eileen and Gascoigne's wife Viola help him get through his transformation and he comes home. Now every full moon Gascoigne has to deal with transforming into a beast.  
> This story is just a self indulgent idea that I came up with while chatting with a few friends, nothing serious really.

                Viola had been out, taking the young ones to grandfather Henryk’s when the pain started to bite at the inside of Father Gascoigne’s chest.  He had been simply organizing the house when the aching of the scourge started ringing inside him.  The good Father held his chest as he knocked over a glass that had been sitting on the dining room table, it clattered to the floor as he propped himself up by one hand.  His body jerked violently, forcing him to bend his back sharply.  A pained grunt escaped his teeth as the burning ache in his chest spread.

                The full moon was days away, why was this feeling hitting him so early?  The sun was even glaring through the home’s barred windows as well, further mocking the Father’s growing pain.  Random bursts of agony had become common place for the priest, ever since the night he became a beast his body never quite returned to normal.  Full moon or not, his body was not ceasing its growing pains like it normally did.  Usually the aches would leave him quickly; most days he could force it to pass, but today he could feel it spreading like cobwebs. 

                Father Gascoigne’s large hand clutched at his chest, distorting the fabric of his vest as he panted hard.  Another wave of anguish throbbed through him, this time spreading to his shoulders and down his arms.  The arm propping him up at the side of the table was starting to cause the wood to creak from the weight he was pushing down upon it.  The Hunter was already incredibly large for his own home, and the beast scourge in his veins was starting to enhance that fact. 

                “Gods… Gods no. Please just… let it pass. Viola… Oh gods she’ll be ‘ome soon.” The good Father tried his best to calm himself, his mind racing as he started to panic.  
 “P-Please… ‘ease just let this pass.” His words came out as a desperate plea, even though he already was well aware that there was no helping the situation at this point. 

                He let out a sharp gasp of pain followed by a grunt as the Hunter fell to the floor, crumpling to his knees as his bones audibly popped and distorted under his skin.  One hand continued holding his chest while the other gripped the hard floor as Gascoigne felt his ribs widen. The pain was tremendous, and his growing fear enhanced it.  He was fully panicking now, but too terrified to move, afraid that if he put any energy into anything other than controlling himself that he’d just becomes that hideous beast again.  His eyes bore holes in the ground while he tried focusing on containing himself, keeping his mind clear.

                ‘Viola will be home soon,’  The though echoed in his mind as he grabbed his own face, half in agony, as another pop rang through the room, and half in anger at himself.  His wife would be home soon to a beast, he thought, a horrible blood thirsty beast.  He hated this thing he was, this thing he became every full moon. This thing that nearly scared his wife half to death when she first saw it.  It was his fault this whole thing happened, his fault that he indulged in the blood.  His own thoughts were deafening.

                The good Father was now utterly forcing himself not to changed, trying to delay the inevitable as long as possible.  His body was so tense that bruises were starting to form under his clothes. Forcing his body to stop transforming like this was not healthy, nor normal in any way. Normally a beast’s transformation would have already finished by now, but the Hunter wasn’t about to let that happen.  He wanted to stay human as long as he could in a vain attempt to stop his body.  Gascoigne could already feel his mind clouding as the scourge started to move his jaw.

                The evening had started so well, so normal.  Viola and Gascoigne had made plans earlier in the week for their two young daughters to visit Henryk so they could have an evening alone together. Just to spend a day alone with minimal stress.  Gascoigne had even bought meat and wine to surprise his wife with, hoping to greet his wife with a nice meal.

  The Hunter already believed he was the cause of so much distress with his family, so he relished the chance to do something nice for his wife.  Anything to prove to her and himself that he had some worth as a human still.  However the smell of the raw meat in the icebox was now burning his nose.  Father Gascoigne’s senses were ablaze, all telling him to give in. Give into the smell of blood, let go, become the monster you are.

                Then there was a noise.  The noise of the front door opening and closing, then the gentle coo of his wife’s voice simply asking “Gascoigne? Are you alright, I heard noises outside…”

                Gascoigne had been holding his hands against the sides of his head, now using his elbows to prop himself up against the floor.  He had been focusing on the pounding inside his skull so much that he didn’t even notice the sounds of racing footsteps moving towards his door.  The good Father also had neglected to notice how loud his distorted voice was becoming.  Surely his neighbors could hear him crying out in agony now.

                However his noises ceased when Gascoigne looked up and saw his wife moving towards him.  Even with the bandages over his eyes, he could easily see her pale golden hair and dark dress moving towards him.  The red broach upon her chest glinted in the sunlight.

                “Gascoigne!  What has happened?”  His wife moved to his side quickly, her face and voice full of concern.  Viola had easily heard her husband when she approached their home; in fact she heard a few yharnamnites even commenting on the noise as she ran towards the door.  

                Viola hadn’t even manage to even sit down fully near her beloved before he recoiled back, partially bumping the dining table as he swiped his arm out to keep her at distance “STAY AWAY.” His distorted voice echoed in the home, now full of terror.   

The change was going to happen no matter what, it wasn’t going to wait for Gascoigne to explain himself or run away.  No Hunter was ever allowed the fortune to run.  Father Gascoigne suddenly hunched up tightly again, growling out as he held himself.  Viola’s return had stopped his concentration, and his body was taking full advantage of this as he pressed his forehead against the cold ground.

The Hunter’s wife was so struck by what was happening, she couldn’t even react for a moment, she simply watched her husband twist and contort on the floor while his body visibly shifted under his clothes.  His slightly loose undershirt and vest was starting to strain against his distorted flesh.  Seams were starting to pull apart as the large priest let out a yell of pain that deepened in tone.

Her husband’s cry snapped Viola out of her stupor and she suddenly moved to hold the massive hunter, not giving him the time to stop her.   
                “Gascoigne!” She was not afraid for her safety but for her husband’s.  His transformations were violent and he had a tendency to hurt himself in the midst of it. Even though she did not expect this transformation, she was not about to leave her beloved’s side.  One hand gripped at his chest, hoping to prop him up slightly, while the other arm wrapped around his back.  She held him as he choked out words that came out far deeper than usual

 “Vi-Viola… Leave… L-LEAVE ME. _Please_.”  The end of his words had an echo of desperation, there were already tears welling up in his eyes, darkening the bandages around his face.  He was so worried, so scared now, he didn’t want this happening.  Words would be hard to muster soon, as he felt his jaw elongate with a loud crack, splitting the sides of his mouth slightly, “VIOLA. Pl…PL-eease.”

The Hunter’s body trembled and pulsed in viola’s arms, his back was elongating and his muscles were growing, causing a myriad of grotesque noises to echo from the giant man’s flesh.  Viola quickly shook her head, before gripping her husband’s vest tightly with shaking hands.

“Gods, no no, never. I’d never leave you like this. Gascoigne please, just try to relax.” She knew asking the Hunter to relax was useless, but maybe her words would give him comfort.  Contrary to her husband’s beliefs, she’d never actually abandon her Hunter. To her he was no beast or terror at all, simply her love who happened to have a particularly painful ailment.

Father Gascoigne could not produce the means to push his wife away or run at this point. He was afraid an attempt to stop her might end up hurting her; he had no trust in himself now. Meanwhile running wasn’t an option in this state, he couldn’t even stand. How could a man stand when his legs were currently breaking and reforming to a new inhuman shape? 

No instead, his wife was getting a front row view of her husband’s ungainly transformation.  Even though Viola only looked at Gascoigne with love and worry, in his mind he saw terror on her face, disgust, even hatred. His breaths started to catch as tears burned his eyes.  He could only muster a distorted “ _please_ ” from his throat as his wife rubbed his growing back gently and leaned into his shoulder.  Lords, he did not want her seeing him like this, not again.

The sound of a music box tune started to gently drift into Gascoigne’s ears. Viola hummed softly as she held her Hunter, hoping the sound and her presence would soothe him. It did, for a moment. Gascoigne’s mind was clear enough to realize he was now transformed enough to run to the basement and chain himself up.  He was directly at the mid way point, his frame distorted and uneven, but he could run.

Within a single moment, Gascoigne had pushed his wife to his side with one giant arm, while his other tried its best to shield his face from view.  Viola was not hurt at all by this action, just utterly surprised.  She didn’t have a chance to stop her husband or even speak before he rushed himself through the basement’s archway in a quick few steps.   The door slammed behind him before Viola could even stand and yell his name. 

The hunter was nearly too large to fit through the doorway now, one of his now vast and unsightly shoulders had bumped the wood hard, causing it to splinter.  Of course the Father paid no mind; he was set on barricading the door, making sure Viola couldn’t get in before he continued towards the shackles he’d grown accustomed to.  A pained whimper escaped his throat as he heard his wife yelling and pounding at the door.

Viola had gotten up as quickly as she could to try chasing her husband, but only ended up greeted by the basement’s metal door.  She knew her yelling would not change the Hunter’s mind. He had made her well aware of how much he hated her seeing him this way, but she also was afraid to leave the man alone like this.  Without being supervised by either her, Eileen or Djura, Gascoigne had a tendency to claw and bite at himself, leaving large gashes for Viola to tend to in the morning.  Viola already had to go through the stress of seeing her husband come home from the Hunt with bullet wounds and bite marks, seeing him hurt by his own actions in their own home was enough to bring tears to her eyes.  Of course Father Gascoigne had nary a memory of any self mutilation in the morning, but Viola was always left to tend to the wounds, knowing he had made them out of pure self loathing.  Even when Djura or Eileen had watch over the Hunter, he usually would ignore their pleas for him to stop biting and scratching.  Viola could make him stop, but that was due to Gascoigne utterly recoiling and hiding whenever she was around on a full moon.

She had to get inside, to keep watch on her love; she needed to make sure he didn’t rip himself to shreds while she was stuck in the dining room.  The beastly Hunter had managed to push something incredibly large up against the door, for it barely budged when Viola put her entire weight into it.  The small woman’s heart was racing now as tears lashed at her eyes.  She wanted so badly to scream, but all she managed was an angry yell as she hit at the door.  Viola was no frail thing, but she was small and the door was a metal meant to stop beasts.  She was now slamming her shoulder against the door, already causing pain to shoot up her arm from the attempts. Normally these attempts would lead nowhere. However when the good Father closed the door and propped up the empty wine rack against it, he had not noticed that in his haste that the door had become bent, nor did he notice that the wine rack was badly positioned.

On the third heave of Viola’s body, the rack fell from its propped angle on the stairs just enough for Viola to slide her body into the dark room.  She panted heavily as she descended the small flight of stairs, watching her steps carefully.  Her body was quivering now, not out of fear, but anxiety.  The room was only illuminated by a few vents to the outside and the light filtering in from the kitchen.  Normally the room would have candles and a few incense burning to light it, but this was no full moon. No this was something out of their control entirely. 

“Gascoigne?”  Viola’s words came out tired with a tone of worry “My Hunter, please, please don’t run from me like this again. I-I’m afraid to leave you alone like this.”  Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark as she moved slowly across the basement floor, while keeping a hand on her now very sore shoulder.

She could hear her husband’s strained breaths before she could see him.  Gascoigne had chained himself up before he had fully transformed, making it so he couldn’t quite shield his face entirely.  He was against the back wall, his side turned towards it as he hunched and tried hiding his features from his wife with large, gangly, clawed hands. 

The Hunter’s clothes had becomes stretched and tattered; his vest and undershirt were now fully open, exposing his strained, bruised skin and taut musculature.  His arms and legs had elongated painfully and ended in sharp hooked claws. Gascoigne’s hair had become a wild mane of gray that did nothing to hide his torn open mouth and glinting, jagged teeth. Even though the change was finished, Viola could still spy her Hunter’s body pulsating slightly in the dark.  
                Quiet deep whimpers and gasps filled the room as the large beast tried its hardest to push its self ever closer to the wall. This made Viola move forward in strides, making a gentle “shh shh” noise as her husband, hoping his movements would calm before he broke his shoulder against the concrete.

The large beast attempted to ward the small woman off as she approached his front, making guttural noises that could barely be called words “S…St… ‘Aye. ‘Ack.” A growl pulled at his throat, a half hearted attempt to scare off his wife.

Gascoigne was terrified.  His mind was essentially a blur of feelings and very few words. Mainly words along the lines of ‘You’re a monster and she’s looking at you.’ ‘Turn away.’ ‘Don’t let her look at you.’ He was still a beast, he could smell her blood, hear her pulse beating faster inside his ears.  He could feel his animalistic needs to feed, to kill.  Flashes of thoughts around killing Viola utterly horrified him, making him recoil.  If he lost control and hurt her, he would never be able to live with himself.  So he did his best to keep her away, even if he truly wouldn’t ever hurt her, he didn’t want the chance even existing.

He saw her approach ever closer and he tensed up before she even touched him, closing his eyes and acting like he was bracing for a bullet.  Then he felt it, his wife’s small tender hand touching near his heart.

Everything seemed to slow for a moment as he felt her gentle touch on his chest.  His mind was a blur, he was calm as Viola spoke.

“My Hunter, please you must calm before you injure yourself!  It’s alright, my love.  I’m not going to run, please Gascoigne, relax...” Her words were caring, not a hint of fear that the great beast could hear.  Viola’s voice soothed the Hunter, and her touch made his massive body shudder as she moved closer to run he hand up to his stretched jaw line, wiping away a thin trail of blood as she did.   She could feel the pulse of his oversized heart through his chest, quickening sharply when she moved.

Viola took a few steps closer, now nearly against Gascoigne’s chest as she stood between his massive arms to cup his face with one hand.  Her other hand trembled ever so slightly as it came to rest on his chest, rubbing small circles into it.  Normally she could never get this close to her husband like this, usually he would twist into a huddled ball away from her, but recently they had shortened his chains to help deter him from self mutilation, giving him less room to hide.  He could only turn himself away so much before the chains pulled taut.

And turn he did once reality set back in. The fear came as he attempted to struggle before Viola cooed words at him again “My Hunter, relax. You’re safe, I’m safe. Everything is fine. I… I don’t…”  Her words caught in her throat, would he even understand her meaning?  She was shaking as the words left her mouth; it felt like she was talking to him for the first time again.  
                “Gascoigne, I don’t mind this form nearly as much as you believe.  I know how you think, I know you hate this, but I don’t. I don’t hate you, and I won’t just leave you alone when you’re in so much pain!  I’m not afraid, I love you Gascoigne, please let me just help you!”

Her words, his name, it was making the Priest twitch and shake.  Even if not all the words could be understood by him, the feeling came across fully.  She loved him; she loved him even like this.  His monstrous clawed hand moved ever so slowly to hold his wife’s face, before he made a pained attempt to say her name “Vi… _Vie_ … Ol…a” Her hands moved to hold his arm and hand to her as she smiled before letting out a small gasp. A few tears trailed down her cheeks, glinting in the dark.  His hand could crush her entire head like a grape if he wished for it, but instead he simply touched Viola’s face as gently as he could.  The enormous Hunter’s head tilted slightly, though it was hard to move at all with the large metal collar around his throat. He made a slightly distressed noise at his wife when he noticed the tears, the smell of salt.

“O-oh it’s… it’s ok. I’m just. I’m happy, my love.”  The words were confusing to him, as if imagining his wife enjoying this thing’s presence was just too inconceivable to be a possibility. 

Viola kept one hand on Gascoigne’s arm while her free hand moved to caress his swollen jaw, then slowly trace down his neck, trying to relax him.  Gascoigne’s neck was noticeable longer as a beast, causing Viola’s tracing over his jugular to take far longer than normal before reaching his collar bone.  Normally when they were alone, she’d enjoy tracing his scars and the features of his face, some nights this even put the Hunter to sleep.  She hoped he enjoyed the feeling as much even while, altered.  

The small woman did not expect Gascoigne to nearly moan from her touches as a purring growl rumbled through him.  The noise, in fact, brought a touch of red to the woman’s face as Gascoigne almost mimicked the motion on her neck. His motion was far slower and less coordinated, but the idea of it still made a small shiver run up her spine. Her eyes glanced over her beast of a husband as she tried to figure out her next move.  She didn’t quite expect Gascoigne to be distracted so easily by her touch, but this was a good sign, he was calming down.  Viola noticed now that the Hunter’s free hand was trembling, could a beast be anxious? 

She took a step closer to gently lay a kiss on the Hunter’s throat, causing him to tense up firmly with a grunt as she pressed against him softly.  Gascoigne let out audible slow breaths as his sensitive skin was touched so sweetly by his love.  Usually his body was so high on adrenaline or so twisted in pain that he couldn’t even fully register what his flesh was feeling, but these moments have been so different, so much clearer.  His arms had unconsciously wrapped around Viola as much as the chains allowed, just barely touching her as she laid another kiss under his jaw this time, having to lean up to do so.  She avoided the blood dripping from his split mouth and continued to kiss closer to what was left of his lips.

Gascoigne’s mind was a vibrant mix of emotions in flashes.  The beast couldn’t grasp the full range of thoughts that he could as a man, but he could still feel everything just as brilliantly.  The motions Gascoigne made next stirred a small exclamation from Viola, mainly out of pure surprise as the beast started to nuzzle its maw into her hair.  He took in the smell of his wife, trying to focus on her familiar scent and ignore the sweet smell of blood that was ever present.  Absent mindedly, Gascoigne laid a small lick on Viola’s cheek, an attempt to repay her for the kisses she was giving him.

This all caused the small woman to freeze up as her husband continued, even nestling his face in the crook of her neck before realization of his actions set in.  He pulled away from Viola and attempted to cover and claw at his face, damning himself for that moment of giving into temptation. Viola quickly shot her hands up to hold at his wrists, trying to stop Gascoigne’s violent movements “Shh Shh, it’s alright!  You just, gave me a bit of a shock. You’re fine, my love.”  He was making a feeble effort to say ‘I’m sorry’ to her, but it simply came out as garbled groans and whimpers.

Viola ran a hand through her hunter’s gray mane of hair, though it was longer and thicker than normal, she still managed to brush her fingers through it. After a pause of hesitation, Gascoigne pulled in closer for the woman to do so, seeming very easily directed by Viola’s movements.  The great beast let out a sigh as he leaned into Viola’s motions, so easily pleased by them. 

The small wife usually never got a chance to look at her husband while he was like this, she only ever could catch glances at his face before he’d turn away.  Now he was letting her see him clearly, and even though the room was dark, she could still make out his gnarled features.

Though his face was ripped and elongated, Viola could still easily see her husband in it.  The curved point of his nose, his defined bone structure, it was all still there.  Her hand left his hair and moved to trace under the jagged opening of his jaw, while she tilted her head at Gascoigne’s angular teeth and bloodied gums.

“It’s not that bad, you know.  Even like this you still are far more handsome than most men in Yharnam.  Djura could take a lesson from you.”   Viola grinned ever so slightly, hoping the gentle humor wouldn’t be lost on him.  He seemed to enjoy the comment, even if he didn’t fully understand it.  It seemed that even like this, jokes about that annoying Power Keger still amused him.

Gascoigne moved to press his forehead against hers, eliciting a quiet exhale from Viola as she steadied herself.  There was a silent moment between them, just enjoying the calm before Viola closed her eyes and started to rub at the Hunter’s growing bruises and strained flesh.  She hoped to further relax him and possibly ease his obviously sore body.  It was hard for her to fully grasp how painful the whole thing must be for her husband.

The beast let out a small groan when Viola managed to hit more tender areas closer to his ribs.  Some of his older scars had been stretched and appeared to have grown more sensitive.  Gascoigne moved to lean his head into his wife’s shoulder, softening against her.  Thankfully he wasn’t putting his full weight into her, the shackle around his neck made sure of that.

It didn’t take long for Viola to notice that her husband was enjoying her gentle caresses a bit more than she expected.   A few grumbling groans were coming from deep in his chest before suddenly the Hunter tensed up and turned away with a shudder that was powerful enough to be seen.  This all was confusing and worrying to Viola, had she hit a particularly sore area, was the smell of her blood becoming too much?  Could her Hunter smell the blood from her attempt at opening the door?

Gascoigne was pressed against the wall once more, trying to twist his lower body around and away from Viola.  He was suddenly very coherent of something beastly within him, and it was making him incredibly distraught.  Viola moved towards him, thinking his actions were due to her “Ga-Gascoigne, what did I do, did I hurt you? What’s wrong?” 

He jerked his head to shake it, growling out what sounded like a ‘no’ and then “St..Steeh... Ba-hck.” Words were nearly impossible now; his throat and mouth were no longer meant for human speech.  Even as a beast, he knew what was happening, and he felt a deep shame and embarrassment twisting in his gut.  His wife would see him for what he was if she saw, just a beast through and through, finding primal pleasure in just being touched.  Gascoigne’s disgust with himself was making him ignore that Viola was trying to pull at him and speak with him.  He was too focused on hiding his shame.

“Gascoigne!  Do not ignore me like this, what’s wrong?”  Viola didn’t normally ever raise her voice, but she was becoming tired of her husband constantly hiding from her.  She grabbed at his clawed hand and attempted to pull on it.  The Hunter was now looking at her from over his shoulder, utterly astounded by the outburst.  He felt appalled by himself, but causing his wife to feel this way made him far more uneasy, he didn’t want her distressed. 

His wife held his massive hand as he move to show himself once more, though he tried to hide his face from his wife’s gaze as best he could.  Gascoigne’s panting had become more rough and uneven in tone, as if he was suddenly far more nervous. 

It took Viola a good few sessions of looking over the Hunter’s massive quivering frame before she noticed what he was so distraught from.   Her face suddenly flushed a brilliant shade.

“Oh. O-oh.” Was all she managed to say as she noticed the straining bulge Father Gascoigne was trying his best at hiding.  Apparently her gentle massaging worked a bit too well at relaxing her husband.  The confused tone in her voice was making Gascoigne shift uncomfortably.  He couldn’t understand at all what his wife could be thinking or feeling at this point and it agitated him highly.

There was a pregnant pause before Viola forced a cough and attempted to lighten the awkwardness “My Hunter, this too is… Perfectly normal. You don’t need to hide from me.” She moved ever closer, still keeping a hold on his hand. 

Another pause before Viola let her free hand drift over her Hunter’s chest and lower down to his stomach.  The small woman tried her best to sound calm and normalize the situation, “It’s fine, my love. I wouldn’t expect less, you are my husband after all. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve accidently… _excited_ you.”  She looked up at his face, he was now watching her more closely and listening to her word, while also letting out light huffs from her caressing.

“I don’t think less of you due to this, my love.  I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I don’t mind this.  It’s still you, this is just normal.”  She kept her voice as soothing as possible as she moved his hand to her face “You’re ok.” 

Gascoigne was leaning into his wife again, letting her touch him as he held her.  It was hard to think straight, to fully understand, but among everything, he at least felt a feeling of subtle acceptance.  Viola wasn’t running, she wasn’t disgusted, she wasn’t leaving him.

As nice as these feelings were, and the tenderness Viola was showing her massive beast husband, it was doing nothing but increasing tension in his lower extremities, making him pant through his teeth.  Viola took in a breath before moving her hand to the strain in his pants, unsure of how Gascoigne would react as she tried to tenderly caress the area.  His clothes were already stretched taut and tattered; so they did little to stop Gascoigne from fully feeling his wife’s small hand moving over him. 

Just the small motions Viola made was enough to elicit a loud bellowing moan from Gascoigne, something neither of them expected.   He buried his face into her neck, causing her to shiver while the great beast panted.

“I-It’s alright my Hunter, just relax.  It’s just something nice.” She tried her best to whisper to him, hoping he might enjoy it, but hearing him growling out her name sent a much more intense shudder through her than her whispering could muster in him.   

Viola tried to keep herself clear minded, even though the situation was so strange and sudden.  She just needed to keep herself focused, keep Gascoigne distracted from himself.  It wasn’t a normal instance for them in any way, but for once her love wasn’t crying out and hurting himself in the night, she could keep him placid for the time being. 

“Vie-O…La..”  He was trembling and throbbing, trying to push himself closer to his wife, but the chains cause the shackles to bite into him the more he tried, only allowing so much movement.  He let out an annoyed huff as his teeth clenched.  Viola took a moment to understand, and then ceased her movements to look around on the floor for something.

Father Gascoigne was of course far too large to unshackle himself now, the key was far too small for his twisted claws to pick up.  The key had been simply thrown onto the floor while he chained himself up.  Viola spied it quickly and moved out from under the large beast to pick up the small silver key.  It usually had barely any use, being that the shackles would hang loosely off of Gascoigne when he was human.

The small woman took in a deep breath; she was going to put a large amount of trust into both Gascoigne and herself in this moment, believing that this would not turn out badly.  She quickly unlocked the shackles before Gascoigne come to any realization as to what Viola was doing.  Only his feet were left chained, while his neck and arms were now free to wander. 

Almost immediately the towering beast was upon her, making her let out a small squeak of air when he suddenly pulled her to him.  He hunched down on the ground, holding the small woman in his arms against him.  His arousal was still easily felt by Viola’s legs, but Gascoigne seemed to be paying no mind to it currently.  Viola’s husband simply wished to hold her close and feel her warmth, to feel her heart beat against his, and take in the scent of her subtle perfume.    His thoughts were still blurred, he was aroused and in love, and just wanted to be near Viola.  The hunger, pain and self loathing were set back for now.  Gascoigne absently nuzzled and licked his wife who was trembling as she held him close.  Her breaths caught every so often, so surprised by how gentle the beast was being with her, surprised at how much he was still her Gascoigne.

The massive beast’s arms were large enough to keep Viola from touching the floor when he held her.  Both of them were panting, though Viola was far more quiet than her husband whose chest and throat vibrated with noise.

“Gas...Gascoigne…”  Viola spoke faintly, just murmuring her husband’s name.  The beast was ever so slightly moving its hips now, most likely without even knowing.  He wasn’t about to initiate anything himself, but he couldn’t help the strong feelings stirring inside him.  The priest was happy enough to just be near his wife. 

Slowly but surely the couple were growing more comfortable, more secure with each other.  They daylight was dimming and they were both growing tired.  Viola’s body had become sore from bashing her shoulder, and of course Gascoigne’s transformation had a habit of wearing him out once the adrenaline faded from his system.  Father Gascoigne’s movements were slowly ceasing, the great beast was starting to crumple over to his side, taking his wife with him and keeping her safe in his arms.  His one arm cradled her entire body to him, while the other was held over, blanketing her. 

Viola was relaxing far faster than her husband.  Her lack of fear made it very easy for her to just cuddle close to the massive beast and find a suitable position in his arms.  The air around them was growing cold as night approached, but Gascoigne’s body was perfectly warm, keeping the chill from reaching his wife. 

Listening to the priests breathing and heartbeat was very quickly putting the small woman in a trance.  In general, she enjoyed her husband holding her like this when he was human, and even as a beast he was making her feel warm and safe. Every once and awhile he’d absently nuzzle or lick his wife, and in return she laid lazy kisses on his chest and even sometimes would lean up to kiss his face. 

Gascoigne would shift positions lightly at random intervals.  There was still the slight issue of his lower extremities causing discomfort.  Eventually however, the feeling passed enough for him to fall asleep alongside his wife. Feeling her breath and body heat touch his skin was enough to keep him calm through the entire night.  Viola yawned every so often before truly drifting off, letting her exhaustion take over as her thoughts quieted. 

In the morning, Viola awoke far before her husband had any inkling to.  At first she almost believed the day before was a strange dream, it seemed far too surreal to have happened.  Eventually however, her eyes blinked away the confusion and she looked upon her husband.  Gascoigne had reverted in his sleep, nearly naked as the shreds of his clothes hung from his body like a torn blanket.  He still had his arms around her, holding her close, protectively.  The evidence of the night before was unmistakable, even the lingering trail of blood from his maw was still visible, though now dried and faded. 

The bandages held loosely over his eyes, which Viola quickly attempted to tighten up for him, not wanting him waking without his eyes covered.  The movement started to stir her husband who had been sleeping soundly, only making subtle noises as he breathed.  Viola petted through his hair once the bandages were more secure, just in time for Gascoigne to start moving.

“Vi…Viola…I…”  His voice was rough and dry, as if he’d been recovering from a painful cough recently.  The large Hunter tried moving his arms, which were quickly held still by Viola.

“Shh now my Hunter, don’t try to move too much.”  Viola didn’t want him to cause himself unwarranted pain from waking. Even with the tattered clothes over him, it was easy to see the deep purple bruises that were twisted around the priest’s body.  Slowly, Gascoigne’s mind was coming to; he was remembering flashes of the night before.

“Oh… Oh gods.  Viola… I didn’t, did I hurt you?”  There was a tone of concern and fear in his voice as a gentle tremble took over his body. 

Quickly his smiling wife shook her head “No no.  You were fine, it was all fine.  Nothing but a gentleman, as always.” She cupped her husband’s cheek, then Gascoigne moved to hold her hand tenderly.

“It’s… My love, it’s hard to remember.”  He held her hand close to his lips to kiss it, trying to take a moment to just understand.

Viola nodded “I know. I’ll tell you all that happened later.  Right now, just rest your body.  No reason to strain it now.”  She placed a gentle kiss on the Hunter’s lips, soothing his worries for the time being.  She didn’t appear hurt or even bothered at all.  The flashes of beastly memories were so much more enjoyable than usual, it confused him. 

Gascoigne could feel the strong aches in his body more clearly as he awakened more.  Usually he awoke in pain alone, after a full moon.  He couldn’t help but feel pleasantly surprised to have his wife near, cooing words of comfort to him as she tried to keep him from straining himself.  A gentle grin pulled at his lips, unable to help the tender feelings welling up in him.  He had so many questions, but right now they could wait.  They were both fine, their home was not ablaze, they were not being hunted, everything was fine. 

For the moment they could just rest in the dim light of morning and enjoy each other’s company.  Simply a priest and his wife.


End file.
